


My Aesthetic

by Batfink



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Cold-Blooded Crowley (Good Omens), Crafts, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Ice Cream, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, plastic is bad, snake elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batfink/pseuds/Batfink
Summary: Aziraphale looked up from the pot he was stirring when Crowley came in the kitchen door.  “Here you go.”  He thrust a tub of raspberry ripple ice cream against Aziraphale's chest.Aziraphale instinctively raised his hands to grasp it, noticing Crowley's hand as he did so.  “Oh, Crowley.”  Black scales shimmered across Crowley's fingers and rippled up the palm of his hand.“S'fine.  The tub's just cold.”  He shook his hand out then formed it into a fist before blowing on it.“Come here.”  Aziraphale set down the ice cream and took Crowley's hand, flattening it between both of his own.  Warmth radiating from his palms.  “Why didn't you get a bag?”Crowley scowled at him.  “Plastic is destroying this planet, or hadn't you heard?”





	My Aesthetic

As Crowley was already in the Bentley, the call picked up automatically on the second ring. “I'm on my way, Angel.”

“I thought you might be and I'm dreadfully sorry to be a pest, but I forgot to pick up dessert and I wondered, if you wouldn't mind terribly, could you pick something up along the way?” Aziraphale asked.

“Sure.” Crowley smiled fondly to himself. “Tell you what. Once I get the Bentley parked at the shop, I'll nip up to Markies, get us something nice.”

“Oh thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale gushed.

“Don't mention it. Seriously.” Crowley disconnected the call before Aziraphale could start in on how 'kind' he was being.

\--- 

Aziraphale looked up from the pot he was stirring when Crowley came in the kitchen door. “Here you go.” He thrust a tub of raspberry ripple ice cream against Aziraphale's chest.

Aziraphale instinctively raised his hands to grasp it, noticing Crowley's hand as he did so. “Oh, Crowley.” Black scales shimmered across Crowley's fingers and rippled up the palm of his hand. 

“S'fine. The tub's just cold.” He shook his hand out then formed it into a fist before blowing on it.

“Come here.” Aziraphale set down the ice cream and took Crowley's hand, flattening it between both of his own. Warmth radiating from his palms. “Why didn't you get a bag?”

Crowley scowled at him. “Plastic is destroying this planet, or hadn't you heard?”

Aziraphale gave him 'THE LOOK™'. You know, the one that says, 'don't test me little demon' and flicked his eyes to the collection of cotton shopping bags hanging in a neat little row on the wall.

“Urgh, no!” Crowley cringed. “Totally not my aesthetic.”

“Right.” Aziraphale nodded. “But turning half snake in the street is perfectly fine, I suppose?”

Crowley, wisely for once, said nothing.

\--- 

The following morning, Aziraphale decided not to open the bookshop. He had something more important he wanted to do instead.

First he dug out his sewing box. He'd been repairing his own clothes for so long now that he had built up quite the collection. He then crossed his sitting room and pulled open a drawer before carefully lifting out what, at first glance looked like a neatly folded pile of shiny black fabric. He took it back across the room to the table he had set up specially for this craft project and got to work.

\--- 

Crowley called at lunchtime. It took three attempts before his Angel finally answered. “Spot of lunch?” Crowley asked.

“Umm, no.” Aziraphale replied, distracted. “In the middle of something right now. Don't want to leave it.”

“Oh.” Crowley sighed, dejected and that Aziraphale did notice.

“Come over later. We can go out to dinner. I promise I'll make it up to you.” Aziraphale pleaded.

“Fine.” Crowley huffed, only slightly mollified.

\--- 

“Ready to go?” Crowley asked strolling into the bookshop later that evening.

“In a moment.” Aziraphale nodded. He headed towards the back room. “I have something for you first.”

“For me?” Crowley asked curiously as he followed his Angel.

Aziraphale flicked on a seldom used overhead light and the room was suddenly bathed in a bright glow it was sorely unaccustomed too. Crowley likewise unaccustomed, flinched slightly and squinted for a moment in the brightness.

“Sorry.” Aziraphale apologised. “I want you to be able to see it though.” He was pointing to the large table that occupied most of the back room.

The books that usually claimed the entire surface of the table had been pushed to the sides and instead, square in the middle, there now sat a small black and red bag. It had shoulder straps and a drawstring under a flap that was secured with an ornate snake shaped gold buckle.

Crowley stepped up to the table and looked down at the bag. “Is that snakeskin?” He looked closer. “Wait a minute...” He snatched up the bag. “That's my snakeskin!” He whirled to look at Aziraphale.

“You left some here the last time you shed. I thought it was the best thing to...” He smirked. “Suit your aesthetic.”

Crowley looked down at the bag in his hands. “Did you make this?” He asked impressed. The small bag was exquisitely made. The stitches so tiny as to be almost invisible. The snakeskin perfectly smoothed, all the pieces aligned so that the scales made it look like it had been shaped out of one continuous piece rather than cut up and put back together. “It's beautiful.”

Aziraphale gave a happy little wiggle and smiled broadly at him. “Now your hands will be safe from frozen desserts.”

Crowley looked up from the bag. “Angel, this bag isn't big enough for a tub of ice cream.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and reached out for the bag. “Of course it is.”

Crowley watched fascinated as Aziraphale set the small bag back onto the table and unbuckled the clasp. He slid loose the drawstring and opened out the bag. Reaching inside, he withdrew a large encyclopedic volume from inside the small bag. “It's like that ship, on that show you love.” He pulled an A3 atlas from within next.

Crowley laughed. “The TARDIS?”

“That's the one.” Aziraphale smiled pulling a chocolate cake out as well.

Crowley took the cake from his hands and set it down on the table before pulling his Angel into a hug. “I love it. Thank you.” He could feel his Angel's delighted wriggle and pressed a kiss to his platinum blonde curls. “Now let's go get dinner. Then we can come back here and try that cake.”

Aziraphale stepped back from him and Crowley lifted the bag from the table. “Nothing else in here?” He asked peering inside.

“No.” Aziraphale smiled.

“Good.” Crowley smiled too. He then proceeded to empty his pockets into the bag. His phone, a wallet, an assortment of keys and a few other items Aziraphale didn't get a good enough look at to identify all tumbled into the bag. Crowley then closed it up and slipped the straps up his arms, jiggling the bag until it was settled comfortably on his back. “How does it look?” He grinned.

“Very... you.” Aziraphale chuckled taking hold of the arm Crowley was now holding out for him.

“Good.” Crowley nodded firmly. “Because from now on, it goes everywhere I do.”


End file.
